Thank goodness Derek had a solution to all of this, then. He only wished he’d been able to spare his dad for the last four months. It must have been difficult to let Jorge go, to hire someone less proficient. The man had been at Campbell Wines for nearly twenty-five years.
“So who’s been doing Jorge’s job then?” Both his sisters worked at the winery—Christina as its marketing manager and Heather as the wine shop manager—but neither of them had much experience in the field. That had always been Derek’s expertise. From an early age, he’d been groomed to take over the family business, just like five generations of Campbell men before him. “Did you hire someone externally or promote Greg?”
“Neither.” Dad started walking again, the clatter of his cane softened by the dirt. “I’ve been doing it.”
Biting back a groan, Derek took two steps and caught up with his father. “No offense, Dad, but your health—”
“I’ve done what was needed, son. But I must confess, I’m glad to have you home.” He turned toward Derek, and even in the fading light, his eyes looked tired.
Derek’s throat clogged, and he swallowed hard. “I’m glad to be home.”
Considering they’d only been engaged for such a short time, he and Claire hadn’t had time to discuss where they would live once they were married. Upon their marriage, she’d inherit her grandfather’s vineyard. And when Derek’s dad passed … but his last prognosis had been ten years so long as the disease didn’t progress into stage 5.
And who knew? He might get high enough on the transplant list that Derek wouldn’t have to worry about splitting his time between here and France for a long, long time. He prayed that was the case.
But first, Derek had to save the vineyard or it would all be a moot point.
“And your fiancée seems to be a lovely person. Beautiful too.”
“She is.” When he’d arrived at Chateau de Boivin, Derek had been determined to keep his ear to the ground and learn all he could about different ways to run a vineyard—and do all he could to forget the raw ache of leaving home.
Of leaving her.
But Ashley hadn’t loved him the way he’d loved her, plain and simple. And so he’d done what he needed to move on—flown over five thousand miles around the world.
He hadn’t expected to find a companion in Claire.
“How long have you two been an item?”
“I don’t know.” Derek kicked a rock, and it skidded under the row of plants beside him. “It came on gradually, I guess.” During the long days and nights working together, they’d formed a friendship, bonding as they both nursed wounded hearts—though Claire’s grief had been much more serious thanks to a broken engagement in her past.
Mutual respect had grown between them, as slow as new shoots on a grapevine. It hadn’t even been until a few weeks ago that he’d kissed her in the barrel room. The kiss had been nice, comfortable. Nothing earth rocking, but his world had been rocked once before, and he wasn’t anxious to repeat the sensation.
And then last week, when facing his return to the States, she’d suggested that they create a permanent partnership—a way for them to both help their families. And just like that, the solution to the Campbells’ problems had lain at Derek’s fingertips.
“It’s uh … all rather quick, though, isn’t it, son?” His dad’s cough returned.
Derek waited until Dad stopped wheezing. “I guess so. But when you know something’s right, you just know.” And this marriage, while unconventional to some, had right written all over it. He reversed directions and started back toward the house, his dad following without protest.
“But six weeks? Why the rush?” A spring breeze rustled through the vineyard, and the house came into view once more.
“We’re just ready to get married.” Dad didn’t need to know the particulars. He’d never want Derek to get married to save the vineyard, would want him to be in love. But love couldn’t be counted on to last. However, a marriage based on respect, honesty, and mutual benefit—that was something he could get behind.
And thankfully, Claire agreed.
“I would have figured you’d get married in France.”
Derek would have considered it, but the whole reason he’d come home from his internship early was because Heather had mentioned Dad’s deteriorating health during one of his calls home. And in that moment, he knew they needed him—that it was up to him to fix this, just like he’d kept the vineyard going after Mom had left so long ago. “I wanted you to be at the wedding.”
His dad huffed. “I can still travel, son. I’m not bedridden.”
“But it would be hard for you. No sense in pretending otherwise. It just makes sense to do it here.”
“Hmm.” The lights of the house appeared on the horizon. “Forgive me for prying, but I always thought your heart tended in a different direction.”
He and the whole rest of Walker Beach, apparently. How many times had his buddies ribbed Derek about proclaiming his undying devotion for the woman who’d once upon a time just been his best friend Ben’s kid sister—until she wasn’t? In fact, the only friend other than Ashley who hadn’t seemed to catch on was Ben himself, and Derek hadn’t been eager to enlighten him.
“Maybe it did once. But not anymore.” It was better this way. Because hearts couldn’t be trusted.
Derek’s mind, on the other hand, had never failed him yet. And his mind was made up. The way Dad shuffled up the steps with the gait of someone twenty years older only served to strengthen Derek’s resolve.
He and Claire would be married two days before Memorial Day—and the fact Ashley Baker was their wedding planner wasn’t going to affect him one bit.
Nope. Not one bit.
Chapter 2
Where in the world was Shannon?
From her spot on the couch, Ashley scanned her parents’ living room, where Baker upon Baker
